


And We Danced

by QueenieSav (flossie1999)



Series: Mackleverse [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Bad Touch Trio, Drag Queen, F/F, M/M, bad friends trio, literally what is this, this was a mistake
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-15
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-07-24 02:25:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7489665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flossie1999/pseuds/QueenieSav
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gilbert needs a place to live. So he finds one in the local newspaper advertisements. It turns out that he moved in with two quirky, fascinating, very gay dorks. Bad Touch/Friends Trio. Rated M for language and future content.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Guys this is my first fic, and after all, I am the queen of shitty fanfiction. So have some shitty fanfiction.  
> And yes, this story IS named after Macklemore's song 'And We Danced.' Also, this prologue is based on this post: post/139606983279/ferninism-where-is-the-au

Gilbert shook his head at the newspaper in his hand. He couldn't believe that he was actually about to call the number listed in the ad that read "Flatmate wanted: No heterosexuals." As embarrassing as it was, he desperately needed a place to live. He had bummed the couch at Ludwig's place for far too long. Taking a deep breath, Gilbert dialed the number.

 

" _Allo_?" a lazy voice answered.

  
"Um...I'm calling about the flatmate ad in the paper?" Gilbert said.

  
"Ah. Are you heterosexual?" the voice asked.

  
"No...That’s kind of why I'm calling," Gilbert stated.

  
"Well, you can move in whenever," and with that, the line went dead.

 

 

"Ludwig, I found a place to live!" Gilbert yelled as he crashed through the door of his little brother's flat. Ludwig looked up from the book he was reading.  
"Oh, really? And were would that be? With your Hungarian girlfriend?" Ludwig asked skeptically.

  
"She's not my girlfriend, and no. I found an ad in the paper," Gilbert told his brother, while retrieving a beer from the fridge.

  
"Gilbert. You found an ad in the paper advertising a place to live...and you decided that it was the right choice to make? Do you even know the people that you'll be dealing with?" Ludwig had put his book down and was staring at his brother with his arms crossed and a firm look of disapproval on his face.

  
"No, Ludwig. I don't know the people I'll be living with. But that's half the fun, isn't it? I'll be living in a new place and making new friends," Gilbert said, happily, and took a swig from his beer.

  
"What if these people are drug dealers or pyromaniacs or something like that?" Ludwig inquired.

  
"Like I said, Luddy. It adds to the fun. I'm moving in later today, actually, so I just need to gather my shit," Gilbert informed his brother, and then moved to prepare his solitary box of belongings for his departure.

 

 

Three hours later, Gilbert was standing outside of his new home. He took a breath and then knocked on the door. He heard shouting behind the chipping blue paint, and then the door burst open.

  
Standing before him was a very dark, very energetic man wearing only a bra and a towel.

  
" _Hola_! Are you the new flatmate?" this man practically yelled.

  
"I guess. Were you the guy I spoke to on the phone?" Gilbert asked, cringing away from the man's loud voice.

  
"Oh, no! That was Franny. Come in! Come in!" the said pulling Gilbert in by his arm.

  
"I'm Antonio, by the way, and that's Francis," Antonio told Gilbert, gesturing to a vaguely human silhouette that was halfway concealed by a door.

  
"Franny! Our new flatmate is here!" Antonio yelled.

  
"I'll be there in a moment, love!" the silhouette yelled back.

  
"So what's your name anyway?" Antonio asked, leading Gilbert to a couch.

  
"I'm Gilbert. Are you and Francis...dating, fucking, what's going on there? And why are you wearing a bra?" Gilbert asked, eager to learn something about his new home. Antonio laughed.

  
"No, Franny and I are not dating, and we only occasionally fuck. And I'm wearing a bra because I'm a drag queen. And so is Francis. And we have to go to work soon," Antonio explained, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

  
Gilbert was sitting in a fascinated stupor when Francis finally appeared. Gilbert stared up at his flatmate in awe. He would be lying if he said that Francis wasn't the most beautiful man he had ever seen in his life.

  
Francis stood in front of Gilbert in all of his splendour with nearly waist-length blond hair that was curled into soft waves. He wore a black halter crop top and a cheetah-print miniskirt. His thigh-high socks were held up black garters and his feet were neatly tucked into heeled combat boots. His lipsticked lips smiled sweetly at Gilbert.

  
"Hello, dear. I'm Francis. And you're very pretty," Francis purred and lightly dragged his dark red fingernail down Gilbert's cheek.

  
Gilbert just sat there in a silent stupor as Antonio and Francis began to chatter away about something, and all he could think was 'what the fuck have I done?'  
 


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look! A quick update! This is actually surprisingly fun to write. Thanks for the reads and reviews. Y'all are dolls. I tried to fix the spacing so that it wasn't so confusing to understand when the paragraphs break, but this website refuses to cater to my needs. -Sav

Gilbert continued to sit on the couch in silence even as Antonio left to get himself ready for the evening's work. Without Antonio there to act as a buffer (even though Gilbert barely knew the man), Gilbert was feeling a bit uneasy being only in the presence of Francis.

  
For a good long while, Francis simply sat on a chaise lounge opposite from Gilbert and stared at him with an odd little smile plastered on his dark red lips.  
"I'm very glad that you moved in, dear," Francis purred after a while. "We'll be great friends."

  
Gilbert gulped. "We only just met," he muttered under his breath. Francis snorted daintily at that.

  
"We'll get to know each other. Intimately. Don't worry," Francis replied. At his words, Gilbert's mind was filled with unwanted and sinful images of him and his new flatmate in bed.

  
Francis must have known what Gilbert was thinking, because he tossed him a knowing smirk and a cocked eyebrow. Gilbert felt his face redden.

  
"Oh, yes, mon cher, I fully intend to have sex with you," Francis growled. "At some point," he added, after seeing the look of nervousness on Gilbert's face.  
Thankfully, before things between them could get any more awkward, Antonio reappeared, dressed in his full drag regalia.

  
Whereas Francis had an ethereal beauty when he was in drag, Antonio was fucking sexy. Antonio's long legs were sheathed in tight leather jeans, and his chiseled abdomen was barely hidden by a sheer black shirt. Antonio's face was done up in subtle nude tones, which was fiercely contrasted by his winged eyeliner. He was also wearing a shoulder-length black wig, and bangs were falling into his shining eyes. Even dressed up as this absolute sex god, Antonio still possessed an aura of child-like innocence and energy that took Gilbert's breath away.

  
"Damn," Gilbert muttered, not realizing he was speaking aloud.

  
"You like what you see?" Antonio asked in a breathy voice. Gilbert felt a familiar and unwelcome burst of arousal. Suddenly, Francis and Antonio both burst into giggles.

  
"We have got to leave, or we'll be late," Francis said, dramatically, once he had calmed down. "Of course, you're welcome to come with us? See what we do for a living?" he said to Gilbert, phrasing it as a question.

  
It took Gilbert an eternity to finally shake his head in response, and he could have sworn that Francis and Antonio actually looked...disappointed at his refusal.  
"Um. I think I'll try to get settled. Maybe another time, though," Gilbert reassured his new friends.

  
"You better. We're damn fabulous," Antonio threatened, brushing his bangs out of his face. The two made their exit shortly after. Gilbert stared at the door for a while after they had left, and then suddenly burst out:

  
"What the fuck?!"

 

 

 

A short time later, after Gilbert had moved his few belongings into an empty bedroom (which he had presumed to be his), he sat at the rickety kitchen table, phone in hand. He pulled up the contact for Ludwig and steeled himself for the call he was about to make, which would undoubtedly include an 'I told you so" from the little brat.

  
" _Hallo_?" Ludwig's voice said after a few rings.

  
"Hey, Luddy. I got all my shit moved in," Gilbert said, trying to delay the inevitable declaration of Ludwig's triumph for as long as possible.

  
"That's not surprising, seeing as how 'your shit' was only a single box full of dirty T shirts," Ludwig retorted.

  
"I'm not in the mood for your wit," Gilbert spat.

  
"So, how are your flatmates? Are they killers? Nymphomaniacs?" Ludwig inquired, mockingly.

  
"Killers? I don't think so. Nymphomaniacs? Most likely. They're drag queens," Gilbert stated, hoping Ludwig wouldn't explode with his spiel about how he was always right and Gilbert should listen to him more often. Instead, Ludwig just barked a laugh.

  
"You were right about one thing, Gil. This will definitely be an adventure," Ludwig laughed into the phone. "Look, I've got to go. Call me tomorrow and tell me all about this. Bye," and with that, Gilbert was once again left alone with his own (mostly inappropriate) thoughts.

  
Gilbert spent the majority of the next three or four hours downing bottle after bottle of beer, watching shitty infomercials, and trying as hard as possible not to think too deeply about the situation he had gotten himself into.

 

 

He must have fallen asleep on the couch while watching late-night shopping network advertisements, because the next thing he knew, Gilbert was being woken up by loud, obviously drunk voices in the kitchen. He slowly sat up and stumbled his way towards his flatmates. The people standing in the kitchen were not the people that had left the flat hours ago.

  
Francis' hair was piled into a very messy bun on the top of his head, and there were lipstick stains all over his face and neck. His eyes were bloodshot, he reeked of alcohol, and his skirt was missing. In one hand, he held a dangerously full glass of red wine, and with the other hand, he was gesturing to Antonio as he drunkenly slurred on about something.

  
Next to him, Antonio was missing his wig and his sheer shirt, revealing a tanned chest that was covered, inexplicably, in bite marks and glitter. Antonio seemed more sober than Francis, but was obviously still tipsy.

  
Gilbert stared at the pair for a few minutes before a voice he had never heard before spoke up.

  
"Who the fuck is that?" the voice spat. Francis and Antonio stopped their conversation and turned to the voice. Gilbert followed his flatmates’ and saw a small, angry-looking young man sitting at the wobbly table with a bottle of beer held to his scowling mouth.

  
"Oh! Lovino, _mon cher_ , this is Gilbert. He moved in earlier today," Francis explained, once he had noticed Gilbert standing in the kitchen doorway.

  
"Whatever," the young man- presumably Lovino- growled, taking a swig from his beer. "You just don't fuck Antonio, okay? Only I do that," he barked, staring at Gilbert.

 

"I wasn't planning on it," Gilbert reassured the small man.

  
"Oh, but I was," Antonio chirped, shooting a mischievous look at Francis.

  
"Goddamn," Gilbert whispered, just as hell broke loose in the kitchen, and suddenly three people were yelling in languages that Gilbert couldn't understand.  
 


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is my favourite chapter so far. even though it's shit.  
> follow me on tumblr to see the outfits worn by the characters and shit like that.

It turned at that Antonio and Francis had normal, everyday jobs after all. They worked at a small restaurant that was known for its excellent service and huge cheeseburgers.

  
Unfortunately, Gilbert found out about Antonio and Francis' jobs by accident.

  
It was three days after the huge screaming match between Gilbert's new flatmates and the angry Lovino (which ultimately ended in obscenely public sex between Antonio and Lovino on the wobbly kitchen table), when Gilbert finally received the call he had been dreading.

  
Gilbert looked at the picture that flashed up when his phone started ringing.

  
"Fuck," he mumbled, earning a dirty look from an elderly lady that was browsing for the perfect cat food. He answered his phone hesitantly.

  
"Erzsé, babe!" he exclaimed, trying to dispel any angry feelings. This tactic worked to no avail.

  
"When the fuck were you gonna tell me you moved?" she demanded.

  
"Well, Erzsé, I've just been so busy adjusting to my new home environment and working here at the pet store that I just haven't had time to call," Gilbert explained, somewhat apologetically.

  
"Bullshit," she spat. "I had to find out from your pussy of a little brother when I showed up to share a blunt. Needless to say, both Ludwig and I are a little upset with you," Erzsébet declared. Gilbert realized that he wouldn't be forgiven until he had given Erzsébet what she wanted.

  
"What can I possibly do to make up to you, darling?" he said, sarcastically.

  
"Well, you can start by taking me to lunch and then taking me back to your place to smoke a joint," she chirped. Gilbert sighed.

  
"Erzsébet. I'm working. You know, that thing that normal people who aren't high at all hours of the day do. I can't just take off because my best friend is butt hurt," he patiently explained.

  
"Come off it, Bielschmidt, you're high all the time, too. And I don't care that you're at work. Call a sick day or whatever. I'm hungry and I don't intend to spend any of my own money on lunch," she said with an air of finality. Gilbert knew that he had no choice in the matter.

  
"Okay. Whatever. I'll meet you at that dumb place that you like so much in fifteen minutes," he resigned. Erzsé squealed and hung up.

  
It took the better part of ten minutes, but Gilbert was finally able to convince the on-duty manager that he was sick enough to go home. Honestly, the manager knew that Gilbert was faking, but just didn't give enough of a shit to demand that he stay.

 

"You're late," Erzsébet said from behind her menu when Gilbert sat down across from her.

  
"Sorry, baby. I had to fake being sick. It was a taxing experience. I had to rest before I came to see you," he explained in his most sarcastic tone of voice.  
"Shut the fuck up," she shot back, still not looking at Gilbert. He smirked and picked up his own menu to browse his choices. After a few minutes, a waiter made their way over to their table.

  
"Allo," the waiter greeted them. Gilbert's had shot up.

  
"Fuck," Gilbert muttered.

  
"Nice to see you to, Gilbert," Francis said casually. "Erzsébet, you're looking as beautiful as ever," Francis said, taking Erzsébet hand and kissing it daintily. Erzsébet had an amused look on her face.

  
“Francis, my queen, I take it that you already know Gilbert?" Erzsébet inquired, gesturing to Gilbert across the table. Francis smiled at her.

  
"My dear, I live with Gilbert," Francis explained.

  
"Hmm. Gilbert, you failed to mention that you lived with Franny and Toni. I would have been more than pleased to have heard this," Erzsébet said to Gilbert, shooting him and accusing look.

  
"How the fuck was I supposed to know that you knew Francis and Antonio?" Gilbert demanded.

  
"Gilbert, dear, you know I love this little restaurant. Obviously I would be acquainted with the staff," Erzsébet asserted.

  
"I didn’t even fucking know that Francis worked here until he showed up at our table," Gilbert replied.

 

"You must have known that they're queens, then?" Erzsébet asked warily.

  
"Yes, I knew that, but that wouldn't explain how you know them," Gilbert exclaimed.

  
"Gilbert. You know what I do for a living. You know what kind of person I am. You must have guessed that I would frequent drag and gay bars," Erzsébet said flatly.

  
"Oh my, god. I can't fucking get away," Gilbert murmured to himself. Gilbert looked at Francis, who, even now, had his face made up to perfection and his hair in a neat bun. Francis had an odd smirk on his face.

  
"I'll just bring the usual then, Erzsé," he said after a moment. "I'll have Toni bring out your drinks," he concluded, and gracefully walked toward the kitchen.  
"Shit, Erzsé. Antonio works here, too?" Gilbert demanded.

  
"Of course. He's the bartender," she stated. "I actually think they do everything together," she continued.

  
"Everything but have sex," Gilbert retorted. Erzsébet giggled.

  
"They do that, too. I've seen it. Just not that often. Do you even live with them? You know, like, nothing about them," Erzsébet accused.

  
"I mean, we haven't really hung out. They were suffering from horrible hangovers and bruised assholes all weekend, so we couldn't get to know each other then. And we've all had to work during the week," Gilbert explained.

  
"You should hang out with them. I think you'll really like them," Erzsébet said, sending Gilbert a suggestive look.

  
"Oh my, god, Erzsé, I'm not looking to have sex with them," he exclaimed, exasperated.

  
"Gilbert, sex with either of them is rumoured to be intense. You probably want to hit that," Erzsébet assured him. Gilbert opened his mouth to reply when Antonio appeared at the side of the table, holding two martini glasses.

  
"Erzsé! It's been too long!" Antonio exclaimed. Erzsébet smiled at him.

 

"I'm sorry I couldn’t make it to the show on Saturday. I was high as fuck. I could barely move," Erzsébet explained to the man, smiling apologetically.

  
"Franny and I were disappointed that our biggest fan wasn't there, but we'll get over it. You're coming on Friday, si?" Antonio asked, finally setting the drinks down before Erzsébet and Gilbert.

  
"Of course, you're invited, too, Gilbert," Antonio said, at last acknowledging Gilbert's presence. Gilbert opened his mouth to make some excuse for not being able to go, but Erzsébet was quicker.

  
"We'll be there. We're actually looking forward to it, aren't we, Gilbert," Erzsébet said, sending a scathing glare at Gilbert. Gilbert once again sensed that he didn't have a choice in this matter.

  
"Um. Yeah, I guess. Can't wait," Gilbert finally said. Antonio's face lit up.

  
"It's so much fun, Gilbert! You're going to love it, we're really good at what we do," Antonio exclaimed, all in one breath and then sent them both a huge grin before making his way back to the bar.

  
"Why, Erzsébet? I was eventually gonna go. I just wanted to wait a little longer," Gilbert said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

  
"Suck it up, Bielschmidt. Better sooner than later. And Antonio is right. It's a lot of fun and they are really good at what they day. Who knows, you may even find boy there," Erzsébet commented casually, sipping on her martini.

  
"Erzsébet. I'm not interested. And, frankly, I'm very upset with you. I may cut our little date short, and not smoke with you later," Gilbert threatened.  
"Shut up. I know you want my weed," Erzsébet retorted.

  
The rest of their lunch passed with friendly banter about boys, weed, and literature.

 

 

That evening, Erzsébet and Gilbert were sitting on the patched couch of the flat that Gilbert shared with Francis and Antonio, high off of their asses, and giggling inanely, when the door burst open.

  
"Why the fuck are you here?" Lovino's angry voice demanded.

  
"What?" Gilbert muttered and Erzsébet giggled into his ear.

  
"I said, why the fuck are you here?" Lovino repeated.

  
"I live here. Why are you here?" Gilbert confusedly asked.

 

"Lovino?" Antonio's voice called from somewhere behind Lovino. "Lovi, what are you doing here?" Antonio asked, once he had come closer.

  
"Shit. He's angry," Erzsébet whispered urgently to Gilbert. Gilbert was having a hard enough time seeing through his high, but he could sense Lovino's fury.  
All of a sudden, Lovino whipped around and started speaking harshly to Antonio in Spanish. Or was it Italian?

  
Antonio tried to calm Lovino down, but the more he tried, the angrier Lovino seemed to get. At some point, Francis appeared and was also trying to calm Lovino down.

  
Lovino said a few more harsh words and then stalked over to Gilbert.

  
Gilbert had no idea what was going on, but the next thing he knew, he was being jerked to his feet by his collar, and then a fist was connecting with his nose.

Lovino let go of Gilbert as quickly as he had grabbed him and Gilbert fell back onto the couch, clutching his face. He heard Erzsébet voice, trembling with anger, and then the sound of another punch.

  
'Jesus Christ,' Gilbert thought to himself, still trying to stop the bleeding from his nose, 'I hope for Lovino's sake that he didn't punch Erzsébet.'

  
Moments later, Francis was gently pulling Gilbert's hands from his face.

  
"Shit," Francis whispered, wiping blood away with the back of his hand.

  
"I'm so sorry, Gilbert, Lovino just gets jealous," Francis explained.

 

"I hate that fucker," Gilbert replied. Francis sighed.

  
"Me, too. But Antonio loves him," Francis said quietly.

 

"What the fuck is his damage?" Gilbert asked Francis, holding an ice pack to his almost broken nose. Francis sighed and pursed his lips.

  
"Lovino was fucked over by someone. It left him pretty fucked up. He latched onto Antonio to try to get rid of the pain, but he just keeps getting angrier, and more possessive of Antonio," Francis explained after a prolonged pause.

  
"Whatever," Gilbert huffed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel kind of bad that i keep making lovino angry, but oh well.  
> To be continued...


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I'm back. This chapter introduces my stoner son.
> 
> Shout out to my bff for keeping me company while writing this.

The next day was overcast and cold. Erzsébet laid on Gilbert's tiny bed.

  
"Nngnggngnnngnh," she groaned, clutching her stomach. "Gilbert. Gilbert, my uterus is trying to kill me," she whined.

  
"Tough. I bet you're suffering from penis envy right about now," Gilbert responded, not looking up from the paper he was doodling on.

  
"Not a chance. Sigmund Freud was a fucking asshole," Erzsébet groaned.

  
"Speaking of assholes, fucking Lovino," Gilbert said, turning to face Erzsébet to exhibit his bruised face.

  
"Oh thank god. I thought you were about to say something about Freud's theory of anal fixation," Erzsébet breathed. "But I feel like Lovino has suffered a bunch of pain in his life. You know who else is currently suffering tremendous pain? Me. I need some fucking Midol. Or weed. Or both," Erzsébet grunted, clutching her stomach even harder.

  
"I don't think that you should smoke while under the influence of pain pills. That might hurt your eggs or something," Gilbert said. Erzsébet snorted.

  
"Like the fucking smoking isn't hurting my eggs? Just go get my weed," Erzsébet demanded. Gilbert stared at her, awaiting further instruction. "It's at that little florist shop on the way to my place. Ask for Mattie," Erzsébet explained.

  
"Fine. I'll go. I'm so good to you," Gilbert said, grabbing his keys and pulling on a jacket.

  
"Thanks, daddy," Erzsébet called after him.

 

 

Gilbert opened the door of the small florist shop. A chime jingled. The kid at the counter looked up from a thick book he was reading.

  
"Can I help you?" he asked, his voice ringing with boredom.

  
"Uh. Yeah. I'm looking for, uh, Mattie?" Gilbert stuttered.

  
"I'll go get him," the kid said, placing a used Kleenex in his book to hold his spot. "Fucking stoners," he muttered under his breath as he walked through the bead curtain to the back room.

  
Gilbert stood awkwardly at the counter until the kid came back, with an older man in tow.

  
"Hey, man. I'm Mattie. You looking to buy?" the man asked in mellow voice.

  
"I'm actually picking up. Erzsébet?" Gilbert explained. Mattie looked confused for a fraction of a second before his face lit up in recognition.

  
"Oh! Queen Lesbo! I know who you're talking about. You must be the punk bitch she's always buying for. Where is she?" Mattie asked, leaning casually on the glass counter. Gilbert could clearly see that his dark blue eyes were bloodshot. Mattie was obviously high.

 

"Um, her uterus is committing mutiny. She needs her weed or she'll die. Her words, not mine," Gilbert replied.

  
"Of course. I'll go get it," Mattie said and then disappeared behind the bead curtain again. The kid at the counter stared at Gilbert. Mattie returned shortly holding a baggie full of marijuana, which he tucked into a takeout box and handed to Gilbert. Gilbert took the box and turned to leave when Mattie grabbed the sleeve of his jacket.

  
"Hey, man. You never told me your name," Mattie said.

  
"My fucking name is Joseph Stalin," Gilbert said sarcastically. Mattie smiled.

  
"Well, Joseph, you looking for a smoking buddy. Or a fuck buddy?" Mattie asked. He seemed kind of desperate.

  
"Is my weed dealer flirting with me?" Gilbert gasped and pressed his hand to heart in mock surprise.

  
"Not so much flirting as looking for a living body to put my dick in. But I might be flirting with you," Mattie said.

  
"If you're free tonight, I just might let you put your dick in me," Gilbert said suggestively.

 

"Nah, man. I promised my brother I would go see his show tonight," Mattie said.

  
"Fuck, man, I was trying to get out of something. But I guess I'll have to go anyway," Gilbert lamented.

  
"Sorry. I would totally fuck you tonight but I owe my brother and I did promise I would be there. I'll give you my number, though, so you can text me when you want to be my bitch," Mattie said, scrawling his number onto the back of a business card that read "Mattie's Flowers."

  
"'Kay, man. I'll see you around," Gilbert said, taking the business card and the takeout box full of drugs. On his way back to the flat that he shared with Francis, Antonio, and as of recently, Erzsébet, Gilbert dropped by a drug store to pick up of box of Midol or Erzsébet, despite the fact that he had to her not to take painkillers before smoking.

 

 

"What took you so fucking long?" Erzsébet whined as soon as Gilbert opened the door to his bedroom.

  
"Shut the fuck up, I bought you your fucking Midol. And here's your weed," he said, tossing the takeout box and the Midol at her.

  
"Seriously, why were you gone so long?" Erzsébet asked again, tearing into the Midol.

  
"I struck up a conversation. Made an acquaintance that I would very much like to see again," Gilbert said.

 

"Oh my god, Mattie wants to fuck you, doesn't he? You seem his type," Erzsébet said with a smirk.

  
"Yeah. I wanted to fuck tonight, but he said he had to go see his brother at work or something," Gilbert explained, plopping in to his desk chair and staring at Mattie's number on the back of the business card.

  
"Did he?" Erzsébet asked. Gilbert hummed an affirmation.

  
"My cramps are so bad. There's no way I can go to Antonio's and Francis' show tonight. Sorry, babe, you're gonna have to go without me," Erzsébet said, groaning for emphasis. Gilbert spun around to face her.

  
"No fucking way. I'm not going without you," Gilbert insisted.

  
"Gil. It'll be fun. I promise. It's basically nonstop alcohol, strippers and drag queens. It's a fucking blast," Erzsébet said in her most persuasive tone of voice.

 

 

It took hours of Erzsébet, Francis, and Antonio wearing down Gilbert's resolve for him to finally go to the drag bar. He sat sullenly as Antonio bounced up and down in excitement and Francis put more effort than usual into his makeup and hair.

  
He was currently sitting sullenly at the bar of the friendly neighbourhood drag bar where his flatmates entertained the gay public of the greater Toronto area.

  
He hated to admit it, but he was actually having fun, even though he tried to look as annoyed as possible. The music was loud and the beer was cheap and delicious. There were scantily-clad men on all sides, and an outrageous amount of glitter.

  
"Now it's time for your favourite queens, bitches!" the announcer yelled into a microphone. "Give it up for Francesca, Tonia, and Amelie!" Gilbert turned to face the stage as Francis, Antonio, and a third man walked onto the stage. The crowd went wild.

 

Gilbert watched with amusement as the trio of queens danced sang, stripped, and at one point, made out.

  
"Hey, Jospeh," a mellow voice said near his ear. Gilbert turned to find a stoned Mattie standing next to him, dressed only in very tight jeans and an unbuttoned flannel shirt.

  
"I thought you were seeing your brother at work," Gilbert said, accepting the beer that Mattie held towards him.

  
"I am. Queen Amelie is my brother," Mattie said pointing to the third man on the stage.

  
"Huh. No shit. Francesca and Tonia are my flatmates," Gilbert said. Mattie smiled at him, and suddenly Gilbert just burst into laughter at the sheer irony of the situation.

  
Hours passed with Mattie and Gilbert sitting at the bar, getting drunker and exchanging stories of the queens that had entertained earlier. The looks that Gilbert gave and received got increasingly hotter and suggestive until it got to the point where something needed to be done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. My stoner son has been introduced. I'm expecting the next chapter to be a steamy sex scene, so beware.
> 
> Also, I'll be writing a companion story that explains Lovino's background and why he's such an asshole, so be on the lookout for that.


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: ok im aware that its been like 5 months since i even thought about this fic but im on break now so maybe itll get finished? thats a strong maybe, tho.
> 
> also, i didnt like the way the last chapter ended, but oh well. y'all'll get some (brief) porn anyway

Gilbert was on his knees in front of Matthew in the bathroom of the bar.

  
“Get up,” Mattie growled, pulling Gilbert off of his dick by the hair. Gilbert moaned.

  
“Fuck. I knew you were gonna be good,” Mattie muttered, pushing Gilbert against the wall.

  
“Fuck me. Fuck me, Mattie,” Gilbert whined.

  
“Whore,” Mattie spat, hiking Gilbert’s leg up and brutally pushing in.

 

 

 

Gilbert and Mattie entered the VIP lounge together. Francesca and Amelie were sipping colourful martinis on a leather couch.  
“Shit, Matt,” Amelie said when she saw them. Mattie smirked. Gilbert noted that she was significantly less feminine than Tonia and Francesca. Gilbert also noted that Amelie’s male counterpart would be someone that he wouldn’t mind fucking.

“Gilbert, dear, did you even see our show, or were you too busy being fucked?” Francesca asked. Gilbert grinned.

“I saw your show, it was impressive. Not nearly as impressive as being fucked by my weed dealer, but still…impressive,” Gilbert said.

“Weed dealer?” Amelie asked. “I wasn’t aware that my darling brother had branched out into the cannabis industry.”

“It’s true, Alfie. I am a business man in industries other than floral arrangements,” Mattie said nonchalantly. “Oh! Alfie this is my bitch for the evening, Gilbert. Gilbert this is my brother, Alfred.” Mattie gestured at Amelie.

“Pleased to meet you, doll. But it’s Amelie when I’m in drag. Darling Matthew forgets his manners,” Amelie said, kissing the back of Gilbert’s hand.

“Speaking of manners, it seems that you two have forgotten yours,” a voice came from behind Mattie and Gilbert.

“Antonio! Of course, of course! Everyone come in and sit. I’ll order drinks! How could I have forgotten?” Francesca exclaimed. Mattie took a seat next to Amelie and quickly pulled Gilbert into his lap, before Gilbert could find a seat a safe distance from the man that had just fucked him. Antonio also entered. He had returned to his male form, wearing a V-neck and ripped jeans, face still fully made up, but sans wig.

“It’s nice to see you again, Matthew,” Antonio nodded at Mattie. “Gilbert, love, how did you like the show?” he continued, focusing all of his intense focus on Gilbert.

“It, uh, it was actually pretty fun. I liked it. A lot,” Gilbert managed to force out. All three of the queens practically glowed from the compliment. At that moment, a waiter wearing only spandex short and a bow tie arrived with a tray of drinks.

 

 

 

The night wore on. All five men became increasingly drunk. Alfred had removed his bosom and wig and was now complacently shirtless. Francis had stripped down until he was only in his lingerie.

“Y’know, Mattie here fucked with Franny and Toni,” Alfred slurred, sloshing his martini all over himself.

“You’re one to talk, frère,” Mattie hiccupped. “You’ve also had sex with them. At the same time, if I remember correctly.” Gilbert giggled.

“You guys are fucking crazy,” Gilbert mumbled against Mattie’s neck.

“To elaborate on Matthew’s claims, my dear Gilbert, Alfred, Francis and I did have sex together. In fact, Alfred took both of us at the same time, like a good little slut,” Antonio said, smirking at Alfred, who immediately became even redder in the face. Mattie and Francis both burst into hysterical laughter. Alfred lunged across the small coffee table and began smothering Francis.

“It’s best to leave them now, before the sex starts,” Mattie announced gesturing to where Alfred and Francis were beginning to moan and rock against each other.

“Yes, I think it’s time for me to get back to my little Lovi, anyway. He adores seeing me in makeup,” Antonio said, beaming. Gilbert scrunched up his face in disgust and Mattie made a retching noise.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Gilbert. And assume Francis won’t be home until tomorrow, either, so you’ve got the house to yourself for the evening,” Antonio said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively at Mattie. “It was nice seeing you, as always, Matthew.”

“Here, Gilbert. I’ll walk you home,” Mattie said and grabbed Gilbert’s hand.

 

 

 

The pair very slowly and very drunkenly made their way back to Gilbert’s shared flat, pausing frequently for Mattie to press Gilbert against a wall and kiss him breathless or give him a dark hickey. After fumbling with the lock for several moments, Gilbert was finally able to open the faded blue door to his flat.

There, on the patched couch, sat Erzsébet, wearing only a worn t-shirt with the Hungarian flag and panties that said ‘God Bless This Meal.’

“And where have you been, Gilbert Engelbert, Bielschmidt? Do you have any idea what time it is?” she inquired with mock concern.

“Fuck off, Erzsé,” Gilbert muttered.

"How was it? Did you absolutely love it?” Erzsébet asked eagerly.

“Yeah, I actually did. It was fun.” Gilbert replied, stifling a yawn. “But I think Mattie and I are going to go to bed now,” he finished, pulling on Mattie’s hand.

“Oh, no you don’t. Mattie, I’m sorry, but Gilly really is sensitive and he can’t take two rough fucks in one night. You’ll have to wait. And I really want to talk to Gilbert about the first super gay thing he’s ever done,” Erzsébet explained. Mattie cocked an eyebrow.

“Don’t tell me that I’m the first guy to give Gilbert a good fucking,” Mattie said in disbelief.

“Of course not. Gilbert here has been taking it up the ass since we were fourteen, isn’t that right, Gil? I was talking about the drag bar,” Erzsébet clarified. Gilbert blushed. “Anyway, goodnight, Mattie. I’m sure I’ll be seeing a lot of you from now on,” she said, waving at the blond.

“I would never wish to overstay my welcome in a house that does not belong to you, my queen,” Mattie said coolly, pulling Gilbert close and giving him a smothering kiss.

When Mattie finally pulled away. Gilbert was too breathless and dizzy to fully understand what Mattie had whispered in his ear before he had left.

“I’d love to see you in drag one day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what a vague and disappointing way to finish a chapter. yes, i did give gilbert a middle name (it means as bright as an angel and if that aint gilbert...). and im so here for butch lesbian mom friend erzsébet

**Author's Note:**

> To be continued...?


End file.
